


Q is for Queen

by Zeplerfer



Series: Alphabet Smut [14]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 69, Blow Jobs, Cardverse, M/M, More Fluff than Smut, Quiet Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeplerfer/pseuds/Zeplerfer
Summary: When the annual joke-telling festival fails to bring a smile to the Queen’s lips, his childhood friend tries a different tactic.





	Q is for Queen

**Author's Note:**

> This is a revision of my contribution to the USUK Non-Disney Fairy Tale event. It's based on the Princess Who Could Not Smile. Because obviously I read a fairy tale and thought to myself, this really needs more smut! Anyway, Happy St. George's Day!

Spades was a beautiful kingdom governed by a young and unhappy Queen. Although the land and the people were beginning to flourish under the reign of Queen Arthur Kirkland of Spades, their happiness was dimmed by the Queen’s constant frowns.

For the past three years on Arthur’s birthday, his subjects had held a festival and joke-telling contest in a futile attempt to make their beloved Queen smile.

Each year they failed.

But the people kept trying and soon more and more traveled to participate in the contest. Rumors spread that the elderly King planned to name as his heir whomever could make the young Queen smile. After that, the contest became incredibly popular with young women. They traveled from far and wide to the capital of Spades, a charming port city filled with traders and visitors from all over the Card Kingdoms. On its cobbled streets, salty sailors walked alongside youths fresh from the countryside. Merchants hawked wares in the busy markets that were the lifeblood of the city. Above them all stood an ancient fortress that had guarded the port since the time of the first King and Queen of Spades.

Amid the newest arrivals was a young man with broad shoulders and sun-kissed skin. He made his way through the crowds, paying little attention to the exotic merchandise. He had eyes only for the castle. With his gaze directed upward, he followed the maze of streets leading him past stores and townhouses that became more opulent as he neared the castle. All around him, crowds gathered for the festival and practiced their jokes for the Queen.

With a confident smile, the young man ignored the crowds and headed straight for a small door beside the enormous wooden gates. He presented a letter of introduction to a guard clothed in blue and was directed inside to a bustling office. There he waited as a page took his letter higher up the chain. Soon, the page returned to lead him to the top of the castle’s tallest tower.

“Come in,” a voice called from inside.

The young man opened the door and stepped into the Queen’s study. Windows encircled the room and filled it with light. The coastal side view was a gorgeous panorama of clear blue skies and deep blue waters. Here and there were a few specks of white—fluffy clouds and the sails of trade ships. On the opposite side were the rolling hills of the Kingdom’s fertile farmland.

But the Queen of Spades was not busy admiring the view. He was reviewing papers at his circular desk in the center of the room. Queen Arthur was a slender young man with tousled blond hair, thick eyebrows, and a sharp, intelligent face. His lips curved downward as he stared intensely at the papers. He finished marking a spot on a map before he looked up.

“Alfred?” he asked, frown turning to a look of surprise. “Is that really you?”

“It is, your majesty.” Alfred grinned and bowed. “Happy birthday.”

“My goodness.” Arthur looked him up and down. “I think you’ve added at least a head in height. Though you still haven’t mastered the art of combing your hair, I see.”

“Hey, you’re one to talk!” Alfred laughed, before remembering that he was speaking to the Queen. “Your majesty,” he added quickly.

“No need to bother with titles, not here.” Arthur gave his guest a look of chagrin. “I’d love to catch up, but I’m afraid now isn’t the best time.”

“I know. I just thought, well, maybe…” Alfred trailed off as the sound of cheering outside drew his attention back to the windows. He peered down into the courtyard at the long line of people entering the castle gates. The entire crowd had a carnival atmosphere.

“Yao’s going to be here any minute to drag me down to listen to all of those stupid jokes.” Arthur’s expression soured. “This is going to be even worse than last year.”

Alfred tilted his head to the side. “But what if one of them actually works?”

“They won’t.” Arthur stacked his papers and maps into neat piles on his desk. “You’re welcome to listen if you’d like. Perhaps you’ll derive some amusement from the spectacle.”

“Even if it’s the best joke in the world, it won’t be any fun seeing you bored and unhappy.”

Arthur glanced up in surprise, but his attention shifted to the door as someone knocked loudly. “Go away!” Arthur ordered.

The door opened anyway and Jack Yao, the royal in charge of all castle business, entered the study. He crossed his arms. “You were supposed to be ready an hour ago.”

“Why? We both know this is pointless.”

“ _You_ may not see the point, but your people care about you and they’re trying to help. Sometimes the greatest gift you can give someone is being willing to accept their help.”

“Well _I_ say the best gift would be something I would actually like. A day in the garden with some pleasant books, perhaps.”

Yao shook his head. “It’s only one day per year. And all of those people will be very disappointed if they don’t have a chance to see their Queen. For the price of a day, you can ensure their enthusiastic support.” Yao walked across the study and picked up a small purple hat with a velvet bow that the Queen had carelessly thrown on the floor. “I think you’ll agree that’s worth the price.”

“Your logic is as irritating as always,” Arthur grumbled. He stood up and accepted the miniature hat from Yao. “But I’m throwing anyone who makes a pun in the dungeon.”

Yao sighed in a long suffering manner. “I’ve told you a hundred times, puns aren’t a crime.”

“They should be,” Arthur muttered vehemently as he pinned the hat to his hair at a rakish angle. He paused to frown at his reflection in the mirror. Through the mirror’s reflection, he glanced at Alfred, who was fighting to keep a grin off his face. “Don’t you dare laugh at my ridiculous hat.”

“Of course not,” Alfred replied, biting his lip.

At Yao’s questioning look, Arthur added, “Yao, allow me to introduce Alfred Jones. He fostered with my family for several summers when we were younger.”

“A pleasure,” Yao replied with a nod. He turned back to Arthur. “I’ll see him to the grand hall. You fetch the king.” Arthur grudgingly headed down the hallway as Yao led Alfred back down the stairs. “Your parents own the Jones Shipping Company, I assume?”

Alfred grinned and nodded. “Our parents hoped I’d take an interest in his sister Eileen, but we never hit it off and she decided she liked a farmer’s son much better. After that they swore they’d never show their face in public again. Of course, that was _before_ Arthur became Queen.”

Yao nodded. “I remember them lording it over everyone during the coronation.”

“So do you think any of these jokes will work?” Alfred wondered.

“No,” was Yao’s blunt reply as he hurried off to some important task.

Alfred took a seat near the back of the rapidly filling throne room. A line of people stood along the center of the room, patiently waiting their turn to approach the Queen. More people crowded together on wooden benches to listen to the jokes and see the amusing performances. Above them all, enormous stained glass windows filled the stone hall with colorful light.

The crowd stood and cheered when the King and Queen entered the room together. The King wore a dark blue cloak with a fur lining. Arthur looked resplendent in a purple cloak with silver embroidery. They walked serenely together to the thrones and Arthur helped the frail king to his seat. The King nodded at the crowd and motioned for them to sit down. He waited for complete silence before he began to speak in a raspy voice. Thanks to the acoustics of the room’s arched stone ceiling, even the people in the very back could hear him clearly.

“Ever since my beloved Elizabeth chose Arthur as her heir, he has become like a son to me,” the King began with a fond glance at Arthur. “He is a thoughtful Queen, with a maturity beyond his years. The crown is a heavy burden, but it is not meant to be a millstone. I hope that one of you is able to bring joy to our young Queen. And if you do, I will see that you are royally rewarded.”

An excited murmur spread across the room. Queen Arthur sat with perfect posture on his throne and watched impassively as the King invited his subjects to approach one at a time and attempt to bring a smile to the Queen’s face.

The first one in line was a tall young woman who recited a limerick:

“There once was a Queen of Spades,  
Who was exceedingly good at charades.  
When he wanted you dead,  
He’d just go,” she gestured like she was slitting her throat.  
“And down would come swinging blades!”

A few people chuckled while Arthur grimaced. The woman sighed dejectedly and the next in line approached. Most people chose a joke, and many were gratifyingly short. Others preferred physical comedy. Arthur politely hid his yawns behind his hand as he sat through dancers and jugglers galore.

After a young woman successfully juggled three flaming torches, the crowd applauded heartily. The next woman stepped forward. She curtsied and then told her punch line to the Queen. “It’s hard to explain puns to thieves because they always take things literally.”

The crowd groaned.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Yao, did you not warn them of the punishment?”

“I told them puns were unlikely to succeed,” the Jack replied. “I also warned that that we would turn a blind eye if anyone threw rotten tomatoes.”

The woman hurried away as a group of vegetable sellers eyed her cheerfully. The next few jokes avoided any puns, but not even the hint of a smile crossed Queen Arthur’s face. His only expression was one of relief when the final contestant, a girl in her early teens with a mischievous grin, bowed before him.

“I walked into my parents’ bedroom the other day,” the girl recounted in a thick brogue. “They were doing something without clothes. I asked what was happening and my pa said ‘We’re playing cards.’ Then he winked at me and called ma a wild card.”

There were a few snickers in the crowd.

“Then the next week I walked in on my pa with his hand down his pants. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was playing cards again. ‘Don’t you need a wild card?’ I asked.”

The girl paused for dramatic effect and then spoke with a faux gravelly voice.

“Darling, you don’t need a wild card when you’ve got a good hand.”

Primed by a day of jokes, the people behind the girl laughed uproariously. Alfred chuckled too, but the Queen’s face was still and cold as ice.

After the crowd finally fell silent, Arthur rose from his throne. “It is an honor to serve as your Queen,” he said gravely. “Thank you all for your efforts today. May they one day succeed.” And with that, Queen Arthur helped the King to his feet and gracefully exited with his ridiculous hat still perched on his head.

Although the joke-telling festival had failed, the rest of the festivities were still a success. The crowd headed to the torch-lit courtyard for an enormous feast. Entire hogs roasted on spits as beer flowed freely from a number of kegs. Alfred helped himself to the refreshments and mingled with the merry crowd. His attention, however, stayed on the windows of the tallest tower. As the sun set and the deep blues of twilight began to spread across the sky, the windows of the Queen’s study continued to glow with candlelight.

Once the crowd finally dispersed, Alfred felt a page touch his elbow. He smiled and gratefully followed the girl back to the Queen’s study.

He found Arthur waiting at his desk with a pot of tea and half-empty cup on the table next to him. “Apologies for the wait,” he said as he gestured for Alfred to pull over a chair. “The King arranged a special dinner for my birthday.”

“I bet the food was good,” Alfred replied with a twinge of jealousy.

“Exquisite.” Arthur shrugged. “But I didn’t bring you up here to talk about my dinner. I want to hear how you’ve been doing.”

“I’m good! You’d love my little clipper. Last fortnight, my crew and I sailed her to Hearts for rare spices…” Alfred recounted his latest exploits at his father’s shipping company. He and Arthur reminisced about the days of their youth spent fishing in crystal clear streams on the Kirkland Estate and running around in the woodlands without a care in the world. The candles burned low as they talked into the night.

“Why do people here think you can’t smile?” Alfred wondered. “I know you’re pretty serious, but I’ve seen you do it.”

Arthur sighed. “It’s the King’s fault, I’m afraid. I was so focused on learning everything when I became Queen that I didn’t have much time for anything else. He somehow got it into his head that I _couldn’t_ smile and then he decided his heir would be whoever brought a smile to my face.” Arthur shook his head. “Once he said that, I had to make sure I never smiled. I was terrified I’d laugh at a goose boy and end up with some stranger sitting on the throne next to me.”

Alfred leaned forward. “So why not just tell him?”

“Well… at this point he’s essentially given me complete power over who will be the next King. I’d rather it be someone I pick, even if I have to choose with a smile.”

“Wow.” Alfred blinked. A grin slowly suffused his face. “That’s clever.”

“I even researched a spell to keep myself from smiling by mistake.”

“So that’s how you kept a blank expression during that last joke!” Alfred’s blue eyes twinkled merrily. “I thought for a second there she might offer to, you know.”

“Give me a helping hand?” Arthur suggested.

“I’m just saying, if I knew a man was unhappy and I wanted to bring a smile to his face, I wouldn’t waste time with jokes. I’d put my mouth to better use.”

Arthur arched both eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were…”

“Yeah.”

“I see.” The silence grew to an awkward length. Outside, the stars twinkled. Inside, the two men eyed each other carefully, waiting for the other to make the first move. The undercurrent between them filled the room with sexual tension as memories of hazy summer days spent at each other’s side took on a different hue. “So am I,” Arthur admitted softly.

From across the desk, Alfred nodded and met his gaze. “I thought so. And I thought, if you really were as unhappy as the rumors said, I ought to do my duty for Queen and country and try to bring a smile to your face the best way I know how.”

Arthur shook his head. “A kind offer, but unnecessary.”

“What if… what if I wanted to?”

“You do?” Arthur’s lips parted in surprise. He met Alfred’s gaze and lost himself in eyes as blue as Spades.

“Yeah, for a long time. I just wish I had been brave enough to say something that last summer.”

“You and me both.” The hint of a smile ghosted Arthur’s face. Before Alfred could move, Arthur stood up. He walked slowly around the desk, his fingers gliding along the polished wood. When Arthur reached Alfred’s chair, he planted his hands on the armrest and bent down until their faces were almost touching. Both men closed their eyes and brought their lips together for a soft, gentle kiss.

When they pulled back, a true smile graced Arthur’s lips. He leaned in again and deepened the kiss until their cheeks flushed red and they ran out of breath. Leaning in even closer, Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred’s neck, swung his legs over the side of the armrest, and plopped in Alfred’s lap.

“Been awhile, huh?” Alfred asked between kisses. He slipped his hand underneath Arthur’s tunic and pressed it against Arthur’s firm stomach.

“Far too long,” Arthur agreed huskily. He peppered Alfred’s jaw and neck with kisses, leaving love bites on the young man’s tanned skin.

While Arthur kissed him senseless, Alfred’s hands roamed freely, drawing soft moans from the eager Queen. He slipped one down Arthur’s breeches and palmed the other man’s growing erection. He rubbed back and forth as the Queen moaned lustfully.

“Hngh. You’re very… good at this,” Arthur murmured breathlessly.

Alfred grinned. “Sailors are good teachers.”

When Arthur’s cock was fully erect, Alfred slipped one arm beneath Arthur’s knees and the other behind Arthur’s back. He scooped the Queen up and set him on the desk. Arthur rested his back against the hard wood and made a mess of his papers. A few slid off and fluttered to the floor. Arthur stared up at the ceiling and let his legs dangle off the desk.

A few moments later, Alfred started to tug off Arthur’s breeches. Arthur lifted up his hips and cold air hit his thighs as Alfred pulled the breeches down to Arthur’s knees. Alfred knelt down in front of Arthur's exposed crotch. He leaned in closer and put his mouth to good use. First he tasted and teased, licking a long swipe along Arthur's erection. Then he eagerly daubed the cock with moist kisses until a few beads of pre-cum formed on the tip. Alfred grinned and licked those too. He wrapped his hands around the base of Arthur's cock and stroked the hard erection.

"This is so much better than puns," Arthur murmured happily.

Instead of responding with words, Alfred wrapped his warm mouth around Arthur's cock. He bobbed his head up and down, sending waves of intense pleasure to a tight coil at the base of Arthur’s spine. The Queen moaned in pleasure and arched his back against the desk. “Yes, _yes_!”

Arthur reached out to grasp Alfred’s hair to warn him, but the other man was too focused on sucking his cock to care. Arthur came in Alfred’s mouth and rode the wave of the orgasm as it coursed throughout his body. He was floating on air. Slowly, he drifted back down to earth, until he was once again aware of the papers spread out beneath his back.

“Mmm,” Arthur murmured happily. He gazed up at Alfred through half-lidded eyes.

“You should see your face right now,” Alfred teased huskily. He slipped his hand down his own breeches and finished jerking himself off as he drank in Arthur’s flushed cheeks and satiated expression.

Arthur blinked lazily. “Oh?”

“Yeah. You look like the cat that got the cream.” Alfred grunted in pleasure and plopped back into his chair as he came into his hand.

“Strange. You’re the one who got the cream,” Arthur replied with a throaty chuckle.

Alfred laughed and relaxed in his chair as he came down from the high of his orgasm. “I wish the whole castle could see you like this.”

“Half-naked?” Arthur finally mustered the will to sit up and climb off the desk. He pulled up his breeches and picked the papers off the floor.

“No, smiling and laughing. You’re gorgeous when you smile.”

Arthur’s flush deepened and his heart pounded loudly in his chest. “Well, that’s. I mean, I’d love to smile more, but I need to take my time to make sure I pick a good King.”

“Yeah.” Alfred smiled at him fondly. “He’s gonna be a lucky guy.”

“No, I’ll be the lucky one.” Arthur gave him a soft smile. He stretched out the kink in his back and eyed Alfred thoughtfully. “You know, I think you should visit more often.”

* * *

Although Alfred initially thought that Arthur was hoping for more make-out sessions, he soon discovered that Arthur was just as interested in conversation and having someone to joke around with who wouldn’t spill his secret. Alfred shared amusing stories from his travels and listened as Arthur discussed the stresses and joys of running a kingdom. Arthur would pore over difficult political questions with Alfred, just so he could talk through ideas with someone who was more practical than book-learned and who liked simple, direct ideas.

Even when Alfred couldn’t help with tricky questions, he tried to make sure that Arthur had a chance to laugh or moan with delight. One way or another, Alfred always ensured that Arthur had a smile on his face by the end of the visit.

After eleven months of visits and shared secrets, Arthur invited Alfred for tea in the Queen’s garden. High brick walls covered in vines and white, star-shaped flowers protected them from view. Although the formal gardens were filled with purple and blue blooms, the Queen’s personal garden was a riot of spring colors. Ancient oak trees provided shade along the edges of the garden. Flowering shrubs and bushes added greenery and life as birds flitted around the fountain at the center of the garden.

The Queen’s guards gestured Alfred through a wooden door and then closed it behind him, giving them solitude and privacy. Alfred wandered through the greenery until he found Arthur at the center of the garden, sitting on a picnic blanket in the dappled sunlight. He looked so calm and peaceful reading his book that Alfred was loathe to interrupt. But he wanted to see Arthur smile and that wasn’t going to happen on its own.

Alfred’s boots crunched along the gravelly garden path. Arthur glanced up. He closed the book and his eyes lit up as Alfred approached. “I’m afraid the tea is a bit cold,” he apologized.

“That’s fine,” Alfred replied breezily. He plopped down on the blanket next to Arthur and his eyes widened as he took in the amazing smorgasbord of fruit tarts, chocolate truffles, and dainty pastries on the tiered tray. “Wow.” He gaped.

Grinning impishly, Arthur picked up a chocolate and plopped it into Alfred’s open mouth. Alfred closed his eyes and _mmm_ -ed happily as he ate the delicious sweet.

“It must be awesome to have this kind of food whenever you want,” Alfred said when he finished devouring a few more chocolates.

Arthur shrugged. “It is, but I’m tired of having to wear a dour expression all the time.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a great king soon enough,” Alfred said, though he had to fake a smile.

“I know I will,” Arthur agreed. “I think this is the year.”

Alfred felt his heart turn to ice. Suddenly the secret garden didn’t seem as pleasant and the desserts didn’t taste as sweet. Even in the dappled sunlight, the air felt colder.

Not noticing his distress, Arthur leaned over and kissed Alfred on the lips. Arthur savored the faint hint of chocolate. Hungry for more, he pinned Alfred to the blanket and smothered him in kisses.

Distracted by the physical affection, Alfred kissed back passionately. He gently carded his fingers through Arthur’s soft hair. Even if it was only temporary, he craved every moment he spent with Arthur in his arms. Alfred slid his thigh between Arthur’s legs and rubbed against Arthur’s hardening crotch.

“Mmph—” Arthur muffled his moan by pressing his mouth against Alfred’s neck. “The guards,” he warned a moment later, panting as he looked up and caught Alfred’s gaze. “We have to be quiet.”

Alfred nodded. “Turn around,” he suggested.

Immediately grasping what Alfred intended, Arthur maneuvered his crotch above Alfred’s face. Firm hands tugged his breeches to his knees, leaving his cock to dangle above Alfred’s mouth. He lowered his hips carefully and was rewarded with a gentle kiss on the tip of his erection.

It took all of Arthur’s willpower not to cry out. Seeing that Alfred’s breeches were bulging painfully right in front of him, he undid the ties. He wrapped Alfred’s cock in his hands and gradually slid his lips downward inch by inch. When Arthur couldn’t hold his breath any longer, he pressed his tongue hard against Alfred’s cock and gradually released him.

They both moved slowly and steadily, gradually increasing the tension as they savored the build-up. The suspense drove Alfred wild, but he muffled his moans by wrapping his lips around Arthur’s cock. He wanted the moment to last forever—to stretch out for an eternity of seeing Arthur happy and having Arthur by his side. Tears prickled at the corner of Alfred’s eyes. The queasy feeling in his heart didn’t stop him from coming into Arthur’s mouth, but the bliss was weighed down with sadness. Seconds later, Arthur’s warm cum splattered onto his face.

Moving on wobbly knees, Arthur crawled off of Alfred and plopped down next to him in a contented pile on the blanket. He blinked drowsily and gave Alfred a warm smile. “Let me get that,” he murmured, using a napkin to clean Alfred’s face. A second later, he frowned as he noticed the tear streaks. “Alfred, what’s wrong?”

“I just wanted to make you smile, but now I…” Alfred shook his head and hiccuped.

Arthur cupped his cheek tenderly. “There's nothing to worry about."

"You need a king who knows about history and politics and what fork to use."

"Those are things anyone can learn. What really matters is caring about Spades and our people." Arthur's cheeks reddened. "And there's also the personal side, of course."

"You mean like, sex?"

Arthur nodded. "I know you're good at that part. I'm confident you can learn the rest."

“Wait... you mean—” Alfred started to raise his voice before Arthur clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Shh,” Arthur reminded him.

Alfred nodded, his eyes wide as saucers. “But you’re the Queen of Spades,” he whispered once Arthur removed his hand. “You can pick _anybody_.”

“I know,” Arthur agreed serenely. His eyes crinkled with affection. “All of those other people wanted me to laugh for the reward and you just wanted me to be happy.”

Alfred blinked and grinned as realization dawned on his face. He leaned closer and eagerly kissed Arthur. They embraced in the secret garden as chirping birds and budding flowers filled the air with spring. Still flushed from their lovemaking, they gazed into each other’s eyes and smiled happily.

"So what now?" Alfred asked, still dazed and even more hopelessly in love.

"Now for the easy part..."

* * *

 

On Arthur's birthday, a young man joined the crowd of people waiting to tell the Queen a joke on his birthday. He drew a number of stares because he was wearing makeup and dressed in women’s clothing. But he just smiled back and his blue eyes twinkled merrily.

When it was his turn to approach the throne, he tripped on his high heels and tumbled into the juggler who had just finished her performance. Her juggling balls flew through the air, knocking down a woman on stilts who toppled a pair of twins with matching batons. Their batons hit a clown’s custard pie that flew through the air until it landed right in front of the Queen.

Arthur started chuckling, softly at first, but his laughter grew until his shoulders and the sound of his laughs echoed throughout the stone hall.

The crowd cheered as everyone in the pile climbed to their feet and quickly tried to claim the credit for making the Queen smile.

“It was my pie!” cried the clown.

“It was us!” the twins shouted together.

The juggler shook her head. “No, it was my balls!”

“Who was it?” the King asked Arthur.

“The man in the dress,” Arthur said, pointing to Alfred.

Alfred beamed. He bowed and smiled at the King and Queen. “But, your majesties, I haven’t even had a chance to tell my joke yet!” he protested.

“But we don’t need to hear your joke,” the King replied.

“Let him tell it,” Arthur interrupted with a smile.

“Knock, knock,” Alfred began.

“Who’s there?” Arthur asked.

“William.”

“William who?”

“Will ya marry me?” Alfred asked as he bent down on one knee and presented a ring.

The crowd squealed happily, but Arthur and Alfred only had eyes for each other.

“On one condition,” Arthur agreed.

“Anything you want.”

“No more jokes!”


End file.
